


the path to victory

by Sherloaf_and_Beljohn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Chubby Reader, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Iwaizumi tries to help, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, Reader is sad, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Insert, Swearing, a lot of self, because im a sucker for happy endings, but the ending is still happy! promise, lots of feelings, soft......, this is actually a lot sadder than i thought it was gonna be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherloaf_and_Beljohn/pseuds/Sherloaf_and_Beljohn
Summary: in which iwaizumi helps you heal





	the path to victory

**Author's Note:**

> remembered that i love iwaizumi and hopefully this does him justice.
> 
> some parts might be hard to read so pls continue at your own risk.

You wake up with sweat on your forehead and an urge to vomit. Sleep has you in its clutches and then releases you with a gleeful sneer as you roll out of bed, clasping a hand to your mouth. The sudden movement makes your stomach jolt, you remain still and wait for the nausea to pass. When your alarm clock goes off you listen to it ring. The noise distracts you enough for your body to calm down and you clamber back into bed, turning off the alarm. A tingling sensation works its way up your arms, down your legs and you shrink in on yourself slightly. _'Please, let me forget about him already,'_ you plead with yourself. A dull throbbing in your head accompanies you as you get ready for school. Your parents aren't awake yet; they often aren't up at this hour, and with Seijoh having practice at the earliest they can, you don't blame them. 

You walk slowly, hand not quite pressed against your stomach as you will yourself not to be sick in the middle of the street. Though you'd felt wide awake when you rolled out of bed, a familiar fatigue cradles you as you make your way to the gym. You sway a little as you walk to the doors. The faint squeak of shoes tells you people are already practicing. 

"Hello," you greet when you enter. A chorus of 'hey' follows shortly after, and you set your bags on the bench. You're just getting out your notebook when the door slides open again and the sound of Oikawa's voice tells you he and Iwaizumi have arrived. More greetings, and Iwaizumi walks over to you. 

"Hey," he says. You offer a small smile in return. He stops, stares, tilts his head. "You look like crap." 

"Ever the gentleman," you remark dryly. His expression is sheepish. 

"Sorry. Did you not sleep or something?" he asks. 

You shrug. "Something like that. It's been hard lately, since―" and you stop yourself. You don't need to tell him about your break-up; he probably already knows from Oikawa. "It's just been rough," you correct yourself. It's hard to read his expression, but you don't dwell on it as you flip through the pages in your notebook. 

"Are those everyone's stats from yesterday?" Iwaizumi asks, leaning over you. 

"Yeah, I tried to mark areas where each player needed improvement. I'll go over it with Coach later today," you say. He leans closer, eyes glued to your notebook. You hold it out of reach. "Hey, don't peak!" 

"I just wanted to know my results," he frowns. 

You shake your head lightly, smiling. "No spoilers." 

He opens his mouth to respond when Oikawa seemingly appears in front of you, resting his arm on your head. "Iwa-chan, are you bullying our dear manager again?" he asks mischievously. Iwaizumi's previous neutral expression hardens. He scowls deeply. 

"That's you, dumbass," he snaps. Oikawa smiles down at you, as if he hadn't heard Iwaizumi's reply at all. 

"There, there, [Last]-chan, Iwa-chan has just gotten out of the wrong side of the bed―"

"Shut up, Shittykawa!" Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa's shirt and drags him onto the court. "Get to warming up already! If you injure yourself again from not warming up I'll kill you."

"[Last]-chan! Iwa-chan is so forceful!" Oikawa whines. You wave at them, smiling. 

"Good luck you two." 

Practice is in full swing when you gather water bottles and go to fill them, taking a few trips between the gym and sink. Pain still makes your stomach throb, so you try to go as fast as you can while ensuring that you don't vomit. If anything, you'd think that walking back and forth would help you settle. 

You're bringing back the last of the bottles when it happens. The door opens with a metallic screech and an oh so familiar voice reaches your ears. On instinct, you freeze, heart immediately jumping in your throat. You don't dare turn around. It might not be him, you tell yourself―there are plenty of other people at this school that sound like him. But you can't move. The water bottles in your arms tremble when you do. Your chest rises and falls, rapid and uneven with each passing second when you hear his voice. It can't be him; he hasn't come to practice in days. The last time you saw him was in the hallway last week. You should be fine. You're fine. 

The cadence of the newcomer's voice is slightly different, which makes the paralyzing fear ebb away slightly. But then someone touches your shoulder and you swing your arm up violently, ducking away like a startled animal. Water bottles fall out of your arms and clatter to the floor, drawing the attention of nearby players. 

You're breathing is ragged and gets caught in your throat when you see no, it isn't him, it's Iwaizumi, looking at you with wide eyes. You want to say sorry, but your words are stuck and you're sure he can hear your heart pounding wildly in your chest, can see the cold sweat on your forehead under the bright gym lights. You feel dizzy. 

"Are you okay?" he asks. 

"Ye―" bile rises in your throat faster than you can blink and you slap a hand over your mouth, doubling over on the floor. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. You want to puke. You want to be away from here. You want any and all traces of your ex-boyfriend _gone_ , gone, gone, _GONE―_

"[Last]-chan," Oikawa's voice, startlingly close to your ear, would have otherwise startled you on any normal day, but this day is not a normal one. None of the past month has felt normal. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel as if the world is spinning, collapsing on itself and you don't know what's up or down or if you're even awake―

"Coach, I'll take her," Oikawa's voice sounds distant. You barely feel him supporting you with an arm around your waist. At first you cringe away, and he stills, letting you wrap an arm around him instead. He holds onto your shoulder in a firm, but gentle grasp as he guides you to the infirmary. You blink back tears. He whispers something in your ear about carrying you and you shake your head violently despite the intense throbbing in the back of your skull. You feel eyes from every direction at the back of your neck.

You don't remember the walk to the infirmary, unable to feel anything except your heart thrashing against your ribs, your burning throat and wet eyes and your grip on Oikawa's shirt is so tight you know the fabric will be slightly stretched when you let go. Your sense of space is barely there when Oikawa helps you sit. For several seconds it feels like you're floating. You mumble a thanks. 

"You don't have to come when you aren't feeling well," he says, not unkindly. "Pushing yourself is bad, you know," Oikawa's reprimand has no bite to it. Silence passes. "Is it him?" His question is soft. You purse your lips, feeling your eyes water. 

"It's fine, I'm fine now, I've been feeling off since this morning." You don't need to be looking at him to see the concern on his face, nor to hear the soft sigh that escapes. 

"Do you want me to stay?" he asks. 

"No, no, I'm fine, I just..." you place a hand over your heart. "Sorry. About interrupting practice, I mean." 

"Don't worry about it, [Last]-chan. Your health is my priority." Your expression flattens in response. "Just rest, okay? There's someone who definitely wouldn't want to see you get sick," he says, and you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowed. 

"'Someone'?" you wonder aloud. He has this smile on his face, like he's just heard the best secret around the block, but he merely waves and bids you a good rest. You're left alone in the infirmary, curiosity and a dull ache tugging at your insides. 

...

You're so out of it for the rest of the day you don't even remember that you shoved off Iwaizumi's arm until you see him the next day at practice. Sheepishly, you hobble over to him, fingers laced together. 

"Hey," he greets you as he stretches. 

"H-hey," you respond. "Um... about yesterday..."

"Oh, are you feeling better? Get enough rest?" he asks. You nod fervently. 

"Yes, I just wanted to apologize for shoving you off like that," you say. 

"Oh, don't worry about it. I shouldn't have touched you without warning," he shrugs. 

"No, that's not―"

"Iwa-chan! Stop chatting up [Last]-chan during practice!" Oikawa calls, a pout on his face. The ace growls, expression hardening as he glares at the grinning setter. Briefly, only briefly, you remember what Oikawa said about 'someone' not wanting to see you sick. Did he mean Iwaizumi? Why wouldn't he just call him out? Was he implying that Iwaizumi liked―

No, that was absurd. You watch silently as Iwaizumi turns to yell at Oikawa. That's right; Iwaizumi wouldn't like you, he barely knows you enough to consider you more than a stranger. A friendly acquaintance perhaps. His type is probably someone more athletic, someone prettier, slimmer―

"[Last]-chan, you're spacing out again," Oikawa bends down to your eye level, his usual smile on his face. 

"O-oh, sorry," you say. The last of the team arrives and you head off to fill their bottles. You notice that the person you mistook for your ex isn't here today. A part of you feels guilty for being relieved. 

Notebook in hand, you record everyone's misses, their successful serves, spikes, and scribble notes in the margins. It's not going too badly and your mood is lifted thanks to Iwaizumi and Oikawa. It could be the start of one of the few days where you're feeling okay. Whenever the regulars take breaks they come and sit by you, chatting you up and taking your mind off of the heavy, grey cloud that hovers above you. More than once you catch Iwaizumi looking at you, but he always looks away before you can smile or wave at him. Maybe he is mad after all? You frown, shoulders slumping slightly. Was he lying? It wouldn't be the first time you'd been lied to. The thought makes your chest ache and you shove it away, focusing on the notebook in front of you. 

This time, practice goes off without a hitch, save for the quiet battles you're fighting in your head. Waves of sadness wash over you occasionally, but you try to force them out by shouting encouraging words at the team and showing the coaches your notes. You leave practice with just the residue of an overwhelming sadness on your shoulders. It lingers, but is bearable, and as class starts and you converse with your friends, it feels like as if it isn't there. 

You're the first to leave, having been the quickest to change, and are on your way to class when you spot the back of his head. Of course you'd end up seeing _him_ ; he goes to the same school, after all. You try to tell yourself it isn't him, that it's just someone who looks similar, but the swing in his step is so _achingly_ familiar you can't fool yourself like last time. Oh, it's him all right. He and his friends are walking to class presumably, and internally you resent him for not being at practice. But why? Because it feels like he wins every time he decides not to come? Because deep down part of you misses―

"What are you doing?" Iwaizumi walks up beside you, and you slowly turn to him. His expression changes, and it's only then you realize you're visibly shaking. You try to uncurl your fists with no success. Ah... here it is again. That anxiety you feel, that nausea and you turn away from him, ashamed at being seen in this state for the second time in two days. You don't see him glaring ahead at the retreating figure, nor the hesitancy with which his hand hovers over your shoulder. "Let's go," he says finally, "class is going to start soon." You nod, forcing yourself to walk alongside him to your classroom. 

He doesn't ask questions, only talking about this homework and that teacher, and you relax in his presence. You didn't realize how desperately you needed someone to talk to about normal things, how grateful you are to Iwaizumi for distracting you. 

...

The month comes to an end, and even though you're no longer as sad, all it takes is for you to hear a voice similar to your ex's, or to hear something that reminds you of him to start feeling overwhelmed. Volleyball practice is the hardest; your ex loud and obnoxious and sometimes you wonder if he's this irritating because he likes to see you in pain. It's always a surprise whenever he comes to practice; you wonder how he hasn't been kicked off the team yet. Thankfully, he makes no move to approach you, but just knowing he's in the same room as you makes you feel sick. Occasionally you step out for a few minutes to cry, barely able to pull yourself together and go back to your duties as a manager. 

After a particularly grueling morning practice, you're left poking at your food, all hints of an appetite having fled you since seeing your ex's face. You pull out your notebook and flip through it. As soon as the season is over, you're scribbling out your ex's name. 

"Can I join?" 

You look up to see Iwaizumi staring down at you, lunch in hand. You smile slightly. 

"Course. Where's Oikawa-kun?" You ask as he seats himself beside you. 

"That idiot is probably buying out the school's supply of milk-bread," he looks unbothered. "He'll find me eventually." He spots your lunch. "You aren't eating?" he asks. You shake your head, grateful that your bento is not see-through. 

"Already ate," you say, flipping through more pages. He's chewing when he looks over at the book. 

"Man, how much stuff do you write?" he asks. 

"As much as I can," you say, "if it helps the coaches with practice." 

"I feel like I should know this, but did you play volleyball?" he asks. 

"I did. For a while. But I was never as good as you or Oikawa-kun," you say, and open your mouth to say more. But you stop yourself. As if Iwaizumi would want to hear about your body insecurities. He probably already notices it himself without you pointing it out. The thought makes you sick, makes you curl in on yourself slightly. 

"Was it fun?" he asks. 

You almost laugh. "It was, for a while. But it got... complicated. There were people on the team who didn't think someone like me," the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, "should play volleyball."

"Someone like you?" Iwaizumi frowns. 

"Someone with my b-body type," you grit your teeth, refusing to look at him. "I quit after one year. That environment I played in was toxic but no one bothered to do anything about it. Middle schoolers are cruel, you know?" 

"That's stupid," he frowns, "body type has nothing to do with it. Anyone is capable." You look up at him, and for a moment it's like you're seeing him for the first time. It's like your expectations have been flipped upside down. With it: a glimmer of hope. Maybe he's not the kind of person to care about body type? A large part of your mind overshadows this sliver of hope, but you can't stop thinking about what he said. 

"That's not what they thought," you continue. "I never thought about coming back to it, let alone managing a team, but I guess that's thanks to Oikawa-kun. And..." it hurts to think of his name, "unfortunately, my ex." You shudder at the thought of it. "They both convinced me to join."

"Do you regret it?" Iwaizumi asks. You ponder his question. 

"After a certain time, I did. But I think it was more than that. I never regretted joining, or meeting the people on the team, just the person who made me feel that way." 

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, "that you felt that way." 

Something floods your heart, something warm and gentle and it makes your eyes sting with tears. You smile. "It isn't your fault. It can't be helped." 

"Iwa-chan! Don't tell me you ditched me for a lunch date with [Last]-chan?! I'm shocked!" 

Instantly, Iwaizumi turns over his rage at the sneaking captain. "Shut up, Shittykawa, you just took to long, Trashykawa!" 

You can't help but laugh, your chest feels lighter than it has in months. 

"[Last]-chan! Don't laugh!"

"Shut the fuck up, Stupid-kawa!"

"Ow, ow, ow!" 

You watch with a wide smile and laughter on your lips as Iwaizumi proceeds to shove Oikawa away. Something inside you shifts; you can feel it viscerally in your gut. A reaction to the words 'lunch date'. A lunch date? With Iwaizumi? Your eyes linger on the back of his head. A pleasant tingling has settled in your stomach. A lunch date with Iwaizumi may not have been the first thing on your mind, but it certainly was the last thought to leave your head that night. 

...

Over the next few days you're almost painfully aware of Iwaizumi's presence whenever you're near him. Aware of his actions, his words, where he is. You sometimes do a double-take whenever you see someone with messy, spiky hair in the hall. And it isn't good. You know yourself well enough to know that having a crush at this point in time is probably the worst thing you can do. To make matters worse (or is it better?) you've begun spending more time with him and Oikawa. Of course, with oodles and oodles of Oikawa fangirls wanting to be with the precious setter at all times, the three of you are often accompanied by at least a small group of five or so girls. And part of you doesn't really mind. In fact, a selfish part of your brain is glad for the opportunities to talk to Iwaizumi more without Oikawa interrupting or making fun of you. A cruel, deprecating part of your brain tells you to stop hoping, that his angry reaction towards Oikawa was fueled by disgust at the implication that he would date you. Desperately, you try to ignore these thoughts. 

You decide to test the waters. 

"You know, I've been thinking; I'm surprised you aren't as popular as Oikawa-kun," you casually tell him one day, watching him in your peripheral vision. He chokes on rice. "I get that half the girls here idolize him, but if it's just on looks then I think a lot of other members would be popular, too." 

"Y-you idiot," he barks, and you turn to him, surprised to see the pink on the tips of his ears. "I don't really care about all that stuff." Maybe it's cruel of you to do this, maybe doing this puts you closer to the same level as your ex; a piece of shit who doesn't care about anyone else's feelings. But you're tired. You're tired of being hurt, of having false hopes. So you desperately chase after a reaction, any reaction that'll prove to you whether or not you're wasting your time. 

"You mean you haven't thought about dating anyone here? There are plenty of nice girls and I think they'd all be flattered if you asked them out," you wonder why your own words make your chest hurt. 

"I don't have time to think about that stuff," he grumbles, still refusing to look at you. "Volleyball is all I'm thinking about." 

"There are lots of girls who like volleyball; we literally have a girl's volleyball team," you say. _Stop!_ You're screaming at yourself. _Stop it!_ "But I guess that makes sense; sports are really time consuming."

"You would know, you're part of the team too, idiot," he says, finally looking at you with a frown. 

"I'm not a player though. I don't need to worry about being injured or anything like that. I mean even if I was we all know my self-preservation skills aren't top notch," you joke. He doesn't even crack a smile. 

"You better take care of yourself," he says. 

"Of course, dad," you say, and freeze. Mom. You'd meant to say 'mom', but all of a sudden both your faces are beet red and you know so painfully well that it's because of what you said. 

Oikawa, having escaped the group of girls, comes over to the two of you, a suspicious tilt to his expression. "What's the matter with you two?" he asks. 

"N-nothing, don't worry about it," you wave his question off. 

"Iwa-chan your face is red."

"S-shut up, Shittykawa!" 

You laugh as Oikawa protests to Iwaizumi's volatile response. The day was really looking up. You prayed this feeling would last a long time. 

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. 

...

You never expected for your safe sanctuary to be ruined by one single overwhelming presence. At least you didn't expect it to happen as quickly as it did. A split second is all it takes for your mood to plummet and your body to react. 

Your ex has come to practice that afternoon, completely out of the blue. 

It shouldn't be a surprise; of course he'd come to practice. He's on the volleyball team, after all. But you'd gotten so used to not seeing him for long stretches of time that going to the gym and seeing his jersey number produces a visceral reaction. He doesn't see you when you walk in; you spot his number and freeze. Your fight or flight response is triggered, and you're leaning heavily on the flight option when Oikawa's voice sounds out, calling your ex's name and you force yourself to look away so you can't see his expression when he finally spots you. He's called over to talk to the coaches, probably about his absences and so he can give a bullshit excuse as to why he's never there. Anger wells in you; how dare he act high and mighty when he's no better than the dirt on the ground. How dare he go about his day without a care in the world while the mere thought of seeing him almost makes you want to vomit. The rage that bubbles inside you is so sudden and overwhelming it almost makes you shake. 

You wouldn't be scared of him anymore. You'd remember this feeling of anger, this powerful moment you have for yourself and move forward, no matter what. You're comforted by the thought of having the regulars on your side; their distasteful expressions whenever your ex came to practice were plainly obvious. All of them knew of your previous relationship, and while you didn't tell any of them explicitly that you'd broken up, anyone who looked for more than three seconds would be able to figure it out. 

For the first time in ages, you're able to steel yourself. No more hesitation. He's dead to you―he always will be. Nothing he says or does around you will shake you. 

At least, until he talks to you. 

"Coach said to ask about my stats," he says flatly, looking at you as if you were a stranger. In some sick way, you guessed you were. 

"O-of course," your voice wavers, and in those two words all your resolve comes crashing down. You explain his weaknesses and strengths, all the while thinking in the back of your head that he isn't really listening anyways. He doesn't even thank you when you're done, just nods and turns on his heel. If you hadn't already been sitting on a bench you would have collapsed onto it. You squeeze your eyes shut, that same, familiar feeling rising in your gut, the kind that makes you press your legs together, that makes you remember that underneath your baggy jacket and pants is a body that he once had his eyes on. 

When you open your eyes you spot Iwaizumi across the court. He's staring at you, and heat floods your cheeks when you realize he'd been watching you. You force a smile on your face, waving. Despite all your efforts, the previous determination you'd felt earlier has completely drained from your body, and if the others notice it they don't make a big deal of it. In a way, you're glad. 

"Are you okay, [Last]-chan?" Oikawa asks during the team's break. You nod, smiling. 

"Of course." He doesn't really look convinced, but nonetheless he gives you a few pats on your head. 

Even though you can't shake off the feeling of your ex's presence, you try to distract yourself, and allow yourself to be distracted. It doesn't work, not really, but at least by the end of practice your eyes aren't unconsciously drifting over to where your ex is standing, smug and seemingly unbothered as usual. Of course, he's the first to leave, and you kick yourself for noticing and caring that he even left in the first place. 

You take your time changing, despite hating looking at yourself, and fight with a million thoughts trying to take over your brain. You fight self-aware thoughts and self-deprecating ones, dark ones, truths that aren't really truths. Your brain is mean. You want to tear off your skin, you want a new body. Maybe then you would still be dating him. But then again, you rationalize that if you two weren't broken up then you wouldn't know how much of a piece of shit he is. At least you have that going for you. 

Whether by association or just because, you start to think about Iwaizumi. Certainly, it feels as though the two of you have grown closer, but you're still on the cusp of deciphering your true feelings. Maybe you're just lonely? Maybe he's a rebound. You groan loudly, frustration welling up inside you. Fuck this. Even if you did like him, he's never like someone that has your body type. That's what you tell yourself. 

_"Body type has nothing to do with it."_

Could you allow yourself some sliver of hope? But still, just because he doesn't judge physical appearances doesn't mean he'd come to like someone like that. You sigh sadly. 

The last thing you expect to see is Iwaizumi waiting at the gate. You assumed he already left with Oikawa and the others. 

"Yo," he greets, and you nod in return. He falls into pace with you and for a while the two of you walk in silence. You wait for him to break the ice, to ask about what happened in the gym. How will you answer him? That you ate something sour for lunch and the taste lingered in your mouth? That you were trying to conceal a yawn? Would he even believe it? Probably not. 

"I won't ask for details," he says finally, "but I know that this... fear isn't normal. It's not just from a broken heart." You feel your body grow cold. "Am I wrong?"

You struggle to find an appropriate answer. Of course you know this fear isn't normal. Of course you know that this nausea isn't the cause of a broken heart. Of _course_ you know that. No matter how you try to rationalize it to yourself, you can't stop your body reacting, can't put a stopper in your emotions even though you desperately wished it was possible. 

"O-of course I know," you say, voice shaking. "I just c-can't help it. If I could stop I would in a heartbeat." 

"Well, there's nothing you can do about that if it just happens naturally," he says, turning to you. Silence falls over the two of you. 

"I was lied to," you say eventually, staring blankly at the floor. "I put my trust in someone and thought it would be safe. But I was lied to. And they didn't give a fuck about my feelings or my trust." You don't realize that you've stopped walking. 

Iwaizumi is quiet, and for a second you think he's going to brush off what you're saying. But instead he points to a nearby bench. "Wanna sit?" The silence is thick around the two of you. You want to talk about anything else, but can't find an organic way to strike up a different conversation. "Can I ask when the two of you broke up?" he asks. 

"A month and a half ago," you stare at your hands, curled into loose fists on your lap. "It was over text."

"Tch, that coward," Iwaizumi hisses. Your lips twitch in a smile. 

"You have no idea." 

"Well, compared to a month ago, it's been a while," he says. "Things might be bad now, but they were probably worse back then." 

"I suppose," you say, recalling the many sleepless nights, the nausea when presented with food. The endless sobbing. "It was worse, but also easier in a sense, too." You hear him look towards you. "The pain was worse then, but it was easier to comprehend. I thought it was a simple and clean break up. I thought it ended amicably. For a while I tried to talk to him. And then I found out he lied to my face. About things I'd shared with him, about insecurities I had." You close your eyes. "It was easier when I didn't hate him and when I just missed being with him." 

"You're better off without him," Iwaizumi says. 

"I suppose so. That's what my friends said, too. I thought I was doing better. I'm _trying_ to do better, but I just don't have the strength," you smile bitterly. 

"You're plenty strong as it is," Iwaizumi says. 

"Thanks, but I know that's not true."

"Says who?" he challenges, looking at you with a clear expression. 

"Isn't it obvious?" you ask, desperation lacing your voice. "Look at me; a month and a half has gone by and I'm not getting any better. I'm not happy, just coping. It's going to take me forever to feel better. But even if I emotionally feel okay there's always the other shit left over that I have to deal with." Your voice cracks. "It was easier when I didn't know that he lied about me, when I thought he had no ulterior motives and secrets when breaking up with me. When I didn't know he hated my body." You shiver, arms holding onto yourself. "Now all I think about when I see him is how he lied to me, how it feels like he took advantage of me even though nothing happened." 

"You're fine the way you are." His response is so immediate it catches you off guard. You look at him for the first time since sitting. He's looking at you with a kind of firm determination. "Nothing is wrong with you. Or your body," he clarifies. 

_Liar_. Your gut immediately clenches, but you know him. You know Iwaizumi. He wouldn't lie to you. 

_That's what you thought about your ex, too._ Your cruel brain reminds you. _You don't really know Iwaizumi. You don't even really know his likes and dislikes. You call that knowing someone? Pathetic._

"Don't lie to me," you say softly. Iwaizumi's eyebrows furrow. "I can handle it if the other guy does it, but please, not you too."

"Why do you think I'm lying?" he asks. 

"Because everyone does!" You snap. "Everyone always says there's nothing wrong with me when in reality they're looking down on me. It isn't hard to see. You get used to it," you want to scream, to throw something, to cry. "Everyone has their silent qualms about my weight and they don't tell me because they don't wanna hurt my feelings." 

"I'm not the kind of person to sugarcoat things," he says, and that makes you feel a little better, but you shake your head, still skeptical. 

"I thought my ex was like that too. I thought he was better. I guess he thought I was better." Your wavering voice prompts you to shut your mouth. Any more talking and you'll start crying right here. 

Iwaizumi's hand is on your head, patting it. You freeze, not expecting the sudden contact. Your heart is racing, pounding in your chest again. Is it panic? Are you panicking from having him pat your head? Is it the action that's making you feel like this, or the unsaid, underlying shit that accompanies such an act? This isn't your ex, you think as Iwaizumi looks at you. No; Iwaizumi is _much_ , much better than _him_. But the affectionate gesture makes something inside you respond accordingly, anyways. Your vision goes blurry with tears and Iwaizumi stiffens. 

"S-sorry," you duck your head, hands wiping your eyes. "I-it's not you, I-I promise, it's just―" The pressure of his hand disappears and your heart clenches. Maybe he'll leave you to cry alone. As if you haven't already done a lot of that in the past month. 

He doesn't leave, though. His hand returns to cup the back of your head, and slowly, hesitantly he pulls you so your face is against his shoulder. 

"It's fine," he says. "You've come a long way." It's nothing no one hasn't told you, but it's what you needed. You cry openly on his shoulder, clutching fistfuls of his shirt and sobbing. He stays still, only moving when your sobs have quieted some. His hand strokes the back of your hair, running his fingers through the strands and the gesture soothes you as much as it makes your chest ache. 

It's hard to tell how much time passes with the two of you sitting on the bench, but the sun has just about finished dipping below the horizon. At some point, you've stopped crying and just rested your head against his shoulder. His hand hasn't stopped patting your head. You take a deep breath and sigh slowly. 

"Sorry," your voice is thick and stuffy; you sound terrible. 

"Mm," he replies. "We all need to let it out every now and then." You can't help but laugh slightly. 

"That's all I've been doing for the past month and a half," you say dryly. 

"I'm gonna kick his ass," Iwaizumi growls. 

"It's not worth it. Don't go picking fights for my sake," you sit up, and ignore the part of you that immediately cries out for physical contact. "I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

"Have you seen that kid? I could kick his ass if I wanted." You give him a watery smile. 

"Thank you, Iwaizumi-kun." He averts his eyes. 

"I didn't do anything," he grumbles. 

"Stop that," you reprimand him lightly. "Accept my gratitude, okay?"

"In return, will you accept that there's nothing wrong with you?" You look up at him woefully. 

"Eventually." 

He looks like he wants to say something else. But instead he shakes his head, sighing. "That's good enough I guess. For now." He stands, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "You good? Ready to go home?" 

You nod, standing as well. 

"Ready as I'll ever be." 

That night, you catch his scent on your shirt and linger, breathing deeply. It calms you, this scent that belongs to Iwaizumi. It's almost a shame you have to wash this shirt. You wonder if his shirt smells like you, if he lingered when he caught it as well. You can only hope. 

...

Slowly, so slowly you almost don't realize; you're replacing your ex with bits of Iwaizumi. It feels wrong at first, like you're disrespecting Iwaizumi by using him as a scapegoat, but at least now you know one thing: he has never, as far as you can tell, looked down on you for your appearance. So even while part of you wonders if what you're doing is right, you'd much rather think about Iwaizumi than feel nauseous thinking about your ex. 

It's impossible for you to feel better after just one more night, but the more you allow yourself to be distracted the less you're thinking about him. As if in response to your desperate attempts to forget about him, he begins showing up to practice almost every day, and even though it's a huge blow to your motivation, the regulars all make it less painful to deal with. Especially Iwaizumi, who seems intent on keeping your eyes away from your ex as much as possible. 

Days pass, and even though ever fiber of your being hates being around your ex, you're forcing yourself to cope. It's hard, and more than once a week you feel yourself slipping into a panic attack, but you've come so far, like Iwaizumi said. You've come so _far_. 

As long as you two don't interact, you're fine. Yet you notice that whenever you are forced to talk to your ex, Iwaizumi or Oikawa are always nearby. That alone gives you strength. 

Speaking of strength, little by little you're starting to feel more comfortable with Iwaizumi. No longer does he feel like just a friendly acquaintance. Oikawa must have noticed too, since his teasing of Iwaizumi has only increased lately. And damn if you don't pick up on those side-eyed smirks he gives you. It's embarrassing to be so easy to read, but you suppose it wouldn't be that difficult to pick up on. You're just glad you haven't been confronted about it. 

...

It seems almost every day Iwaizumi is giving you hints as to how he really feels. It's been a week since that night the two of you talked, and he's more open than ever, as if that night was the catalyst to the developing of your friendship. While you enjoy his attention and company, a part of you fears that whatever you're feeling is just a cruel trick of your brain; that you just like the idea of Iwaizumi and once you've completely healed your feelings will fade. The thought scares you. You want to continue to feel like this. To bask in his attention and return it as much as you could. 

Maybe your brain is tricking you, but Iwaizumi's gentle expressions are your first clue. His relaxed demeanor, his body language, the way he spoke to you all made your instincts alight. You wished you knew if he liked you or not. You wished you were already over your ex. 

You share some inside jokes too. Whenever you're teasing him you call him "Iwaizumi-chan", whenever he teases you he calls you a fool. You know know things about him you hadn't known a couple months ago; his favorite color, his birthday, his favorite food. He knows more facts about you, too. Whether or not he remembers them is another thing. You ask Oikawa stories about Iwaizumi when he was a kid, the setter is happy to oblige, much to Iwaizumi's chagrin. But he hasn't really tried to stop Oikawa yet, and you steal as many glances as you can of his flustered frown. 

More often than not the two of you go home together. Sometimes with Oikawa, sometimes not. You live for the evenings where it's just the two of you, relish the jump in your heart when you see him waiting for you by the gate. You wonder if he would have asked you out had you not still been healing from your break-up. Sometimes thoughts creep into your mind at night. What if Iwaizumi finds you annoying but he just doesn't know how to say it? What if he pities you and never thought of you as a friend to begin with? What if he thinks the same things as your ex? 

No, you try to tell yourself. Iwaizumi is different. He said there's nothing wrong with your body. He's not that conniving. Or cruel. 

_That's what you said about_ him. Your mind hisses. _He said you were beautiful, that you were_ irresistible. _And look where you are now_. You don't want to believe it. 

_You really are an idiot. This is why you keep getting hurt._

At least Iwaizumi doesn't make you feel like throwing up. 

"Watch out for stray shots," he warns you one afternoon. You roll your eyes. 

"Iwaizumi-kun, I've been Seijoh's manager for almost three years. I think I'll be fine." Sure, there have been some close calls before, but at least your reflexes are quick enough so you don't completely get your face smacked by volleyballs. 

"Says the person who's infamous for spacing out." 

"Iwaizumi-chan, you wound me," you feign hurt, placing a hand over your heart. "How will I ever live?"

"You're fine," he grumbles. You smile at him. 

"Kidding~" 

You wonder if Iwaizumi notices you openly staring at him sometimes. Oikawa sure as hell has, and you wouldn't be surprised if the other regulars have also picked up on it. You catch his eye every now and then and part of you wonders if he catches your eye because he wants you to look at him. You could never get tired of watching him play, of the fluttering pride in your chest whenever he lands a spike. 

"Nice kill," you join the chorus of voices. Their break comes and you feel a sudden rush of sadness knowing that next Monday you won't be able to see them first thing. Subconsciously a part of your brain is counting how many weeks you have left until graduation. You quickly squash those thoughts. 

Practice ends and you're emptying water bottles, rinsing them out and turning them up side down to dry. You've just about finished the rest of them when you hear someone running up behind you. Your gut immediately clenches; you prepare for the worst, but when you turn relief floods through your system. 

"The coach... wants to see you," Iwaizumi pants slightly, wiping his forehead. 

You nod. "Mm. Got it. Did you run to tell me?" 

"What? No, of course not," he says, averting his eyes. "It's your imagination."

You can't help but grin. "You don't have to be bashful, Iwaizumi-chan, I won't laugh at you." Your eyes meet briefly and your grin spreads a little wider. 

"I-I'm not, idiot!" he frowns, but you spot the slight pout on his face. You laugh. 

"Look at you two, enjoying yourselves." Your body freezes. You can hear the sneer in your ex's voice, you don't need to turn around to see it. Iwaizumi's eyes narrow at the unwelcome presence. "Aren't you just having a grand old time, eh, [First]-chan?" You want to throw up. You haven't heard his voice in weeks and he has the audacity to call your first name? You want to run, to scream. You feel bile rise in your throat. Just like that he's ruined your mood, your little happy place that you've constructed for yourself. 

"What's it to you?" Iwaizumi steps forward. Your ex whistles, shifting his smug, narrowed-eyed sneer to Iwaizumi. 

"Wow, he your new boyfriend or something? Moving on already, are we?" he snickers, "Hah! As if."

"What makes you say that?" Iwaizumi's eyes narrow. You see the tension in his body language, taut, and fear he's going to explode at any second. 

"Iwaizumi-kun, it's fine―" you say quietly. 

"She's obviously still into me. Too bad though, she's just not my type. Wasted my time dating her." 

"'Still into you'?" Iwaizumi's voice is a near growl. 

"Haven't you seen how depressed she is? Poor thing," he clicks his tongue. "Maybe she'll find someone who gives a shit. I'll feel sorry for them, though. Girls like her just aren't―"

You never get to hear him finish his sentence, because Iwaizumi launches himself forward with a roar, swinging his fist hard into the left side of your ex's jaw. Your own mouth drops and you gape as a fight breaks out. Your ex tries to kick Iwaizumi off of him, both are throttling each other at the collar and fear―white hot and overwhelming―grips your heart when Iwaizumi is shoved to the side. Your body twitches and for a few horrible seconds you can't move. 

"H-help!" you cry, running forward to yank your ex away from Iwaizumi. "Stop it, _stop it_!" You shriek, voice breaking. "S- _stop_ ―!" Man, you really are weak, you think; your yanking has little effect. If anything it just makes your ex angrier. Someone pulls you away and you almost scream, but the sight of some familiar faces makes your voice get caught in your throat. Matsukawa, Hanamaki and Kindaichi are hauling your ex off of Iwaizumi. Looking up, you see Oikawa is the one holding onto you. But his expression is nothing like you've ever seen before. He looks absolutely chilling, like a snake about to strike its prey. Matsukawa and Kindaichi are holding onto your ex while Hanamaki helps Iwaizumi, who is now sporting a bloody nose, begin to stand. 

"You're pathetic!" your ex spits. "I don't give a shit what you think about me or that pig! The two of you can fuck off for all I care!" Iwaizumi looks like he could commit murder, but Hanamaki holds on firm and the two just glare furiously at each other. 

"I tolerated it when you disagreed for petty reasons with my team, when you show up late to meetings and run your mouth," Oikawa's voice is enough to send chills down your spine. "But if you come back here again I'll make sure you will regret it. Leave now, or we're reporting this to the coaches." 

"You think I give a rat's―"

" _Leave_." Oikawa's eyes narrow furiously. His voice leaves no room for arguing. Your ex flinches slightly, and directs his glare at you. 

"Waste of sp―" Matsukawa and Kindaichi shove him in the direction of the school. You feel Oikawa's tense and tighten your arms around him, not wanting to see him do anything reckless. With one last furious snarl, your ex slinks away. Only when he turns the corner do you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. 

"Fuck, what a bitch," Iwaizumi curses. You release Oikawa and rush over to him, concern replacing the draining tension in your body. 

"I-Iwaizumi-kun, you-your nose―" your voice shakes. He wipes his nose on the back of his hand and smiles down at you. The sight of it breaks your heart. Tears are spilling over your cheeks before you can stop them. You reach into your pocket and bring out a handkerchief, shakily wiping away at the blood on his face. He winces and you freeze. 

"I'm fine," he says, cupping your jaw lightly. "I'm fine." Your breath hiccups as you cry, burying your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly. 

"Iwaizumi, you're getting blood in her hair," Matsukawa points out quietly. 

"Should we tell Coach after all?" Kindaichi asks. 

"Let's leave that up to them," Oikawa says, and you hear footsteps as they walk away. "Iwa-chan, let's go to the nurse," he says. Iwaizumi only hugs you tighter. 

"Iwaizumi-kun, please, nurse," you whimper. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, something that makes your heart clench. "Thank you, really, but _please_ , I'm―I don't like seeing you hurt." 

Iwaizumi pulls away, looking down at you with such a tender look on his face it makes tears spring to your eyes. You think you're finally starting to understand his expressions. His hand cups your cheek, and you reach up to wipe away the blood on his chin. "'Kay," he says quietly. 

"Let's hurry, Iwa-chaaaaan. Your cool heroism is gonna go to waste," Oikawa smiles, unfazed by the glare sent his way. "[Last]-chan, the others are waiting for you. Let everyone know he's okay, hm?" 

"O-okay," you wipe your eyes. "I-I'll see you soon, okay?" He nods quietly, not taking his eyes off you. You squeeze his hands as much as you can with your own shaking ones. It takes everything you have to finally move your feet, and Oikawa sends you an encouraging smile. The tension that drains from your body leaves you feeling exhausted, but there's a slight spring in your step when you re-enter the gym. 

...

When it's time to go home, you and Iwaizumi walk alone in silence. You're relieved to see his nose isn't bloody anymore and the injuries on his face have been patched up, but you can't stop reliving the fight over and over in your head. It feels unreal; part of you wishes you could go back in time. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. 

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly. 

"You should see the other guy," he says. 

"I was really worried, you know," you frown. "When you suddenly jumped at him like that... I was frozen."

"Like I was gonna let him get away with saying shit like that about you," he glares ahead of him. "Piece of shit. You actually liked that guy?" You smile bitterly. 

"I guess I did."

"...sorry," he says after a moment's silence. "I didn't mean it like that." 

"I know," you say. "Honestly I can't really believe it myself."

"You deserve someone better," he grumbles. You eye him from your peripheral vision. 

"Well... there is someone. I think." 

"...really?" he asks. 

You nod. "Yeah. He's worlds above my ex. He's kind and resilient and always cheers me up," then you frown. "But I'm worried."

"About?" 

"If I were to tell him my feelings I wouldn't want him to think he was just a rebound. Honestly, I don't think I've worked out all the wrinkles myself. But I think I really do like him."

"So? You gonna tell him?" Iwaizumi asks. This time you turn your whole head to look at him. He's frowning. 

"I haven't decided." 

"Well... whoever he is, he sure is a lucky guy." You feel your heart jump. "I'll... do my best to support you." 

"Iwaizumi-kun, I..." you stop, fists clenched at your side. "This person, I really do like him!"

"Why are you telling me? Shouldn't you be telling him?"

"I-I just did," you force the words out of your mouth. "He's standing right in front of me. Looking at me l-like I'm a fool, and..." Shit, here come the tears. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your arms around yourself. It's now or never. You either tell him now and accept the rejection or you run away and prolong the inevitable. "Iwaizumi-kun, you're the one I like." It's hard to choke the words out, and for a horrible moment you think he didn't hear, that you'll have to say it again. But when you open your eyes you see it through your tears; Iwaizumi might be looking away from you, but there's no mistaking the deep blush on his face. Your words get caught in your throat and you wonder if he can see you shake. 

"You... you're not teasing me right?" he asks quietly. You shake your head vigorously. He takes a deep breath, turning to face you fully. You want to run away, but anticipation is keeping you rooted in your spot. He takes a step towards you. And another. And another. Until he's an arm's length away and you have to look up at him. He lifts a hand hesitantly and you meet his palm halfway, leaning into his touch. "You're perfect," he says finally, quietly. His voice squeezes your heart. 

"I like you," you say again, voice wavering. 

"I know," he says, looking down at you with the softest expression he's ever worn. "I know." 

"Do you?" you ask, a desperate tilt to your voice. "I-I don't want to make assumptions, so if not th-then―"

He chuckles and pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around him and you're surrounded by his scent. "You really are a fool. Of course I like you―shit I can't remember a time when I _didn't_." 

"Iwaizumi-kun," you mumble into his chest. "You scared me."

"Sorry. I've been doing that a lot today, haven't I?" You look up at him, arms wrapped around his torso. 

"I'll forgive you this time," you say with a slight smile. 

"Hm? How lucky," he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair. Pleasant tingles work their way down your arms to your fingertips. "Will you forgive me in the future?"

"You're not gonna get into another fight, are you?" You ask warily. 

"Depends on what that shit head does," he replies. You lean your face on his chest again. 

"Just... please don't get hurt again."

"Hm. No promises, but I'll see what I can do." You laugh against him. "Ready to go home?" 

"Yeah." The two of you part and he holds out his hand. "I wish we had practice on Monday," you sigh wistfully. 

"Who says we're not gonna see each other this weekend?" he asks, looking down at you. "There's a movie playing Saturday that I was thinking about seeing... if you're interested." 

You smile widely, warmth spreading through your chest. 

"I'd like that."

**Author's Note:**

> YIKES that was long... hope you enjoyed! kudos to you for reading the whole thing lol. 
> 
> i really hope he wasn't too ooc.... i pray i was able to capture at least some of his personality. :')


End file.
